


Russian Literature

by HypnosThanatosTwin



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Always-a-girl!Krycek, F/M, I really just watched like 5 episodes of the x-files, i have no excuses for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-17
Updated: 2013-04-17
Packaged: 2017-12-08 19:04:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/764933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HypnosThanatosTwin/pseuds/HypnosThanatosTwin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a thought of: What if our favourite rat was actually a woman? What if she wanted to get out of the game?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Russian Literature

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I really just watched like 5 actual Episodes of The X-Files, the rest is just Fanfiction I read, so I have no substantial knowledge of timelines or anything like it of the series... so don't take any of this serious, it's just a play of thought and me being a sap :)
> 
> I hope you enjoy it, nevertheless.

Russian Literature

 

She was woken by the intense, nerve wrecking shrill of her alarm clock, which she shut up with a slap on the stop-button. With a sigh she rolled over and out of bed, collecting her clothes with one hand on her way to the shower. After finishing the shower and drying her body, she took a moment to look into the full-length mirror that adorned the wall of the hotel bath-room, before continuing her morning ritual.

The first thing her gaze landed on was the stump of what was left of her arm, sticking out of her left shoulder, the ragged nubs and nets of scars crawling from it up to her shoulder. It still arose the feelings of fear, disgust and panic in her chest to just look at it, but also the slight wonder of how she could have survived the slaughter and hacking, without dying from shock alone. As the terror of the memory threatened to overcome her she looked away from it and her gaze fell on her breasts. 

Her right hand came up to cup them shortly, they were small and firm, and their proportions didn't match the rest of her body, but that was okay, as she knew that she was the reason that they never had reached their full potential. She had noticed that they were more tender since she stopped with the hormones. With a shake of her head, her fingers caressed some of the many scars that littered her upper body, some slashes, some looking like stars, she moved her hand slowly over her abdomen feeling the thin scars of knives and the small fluttering feeling deep under the skin before lifting her hand to her head and running it through her short, dark hair.

With a sigh she picked up the bandage from the pile of her clothes and, with difficulties, wrapped it around her chest, tight enough to conceal her breasts, but loose enough to not restrict her breathing that much. After that she dressed in underwear and baggy jeans, before reaching for the plastic and rubber arm that was leaning against the shower. She slipped it onto the stump of her arm and tightened the straps of it around her left shoulder, before continuing to dress into a tight black under-shirt, that concealed the bandage and brought out her muscled upper body, then a black button-up, that was a pain in the ass to close with only one hand, that made it less obvious that her left arm was fake and concealed the last of her female curves. 

Her hand landed on her hip and she remembered her relieve that it had remained slim through puberty and had not widened drastically to accommodate to carrying children. It had made her life and her job easier. 

With a last look into the mirror she combed her short black hair into form. She went out of the bathroom, over to her leather-jacket and fished out one of the home-made herbal drops and popped it into her mouth. While sucking on the bitter sweet, she took her weapons from the table, hid the two guns and three knives on her person and packed the rest of her things into a brown duffel bag at the end of the bed. 

After that she put on the leather-jacket and with one look onto her mobile-phone, checked for any messages. There weren't any. She grabbed the duffel bag and left the hotel room, checked out at the reception and made her way to her car. She was called back by a blonde young woman dressed in the uniform of the hotel staff.

“Mr. Morrison, this was left for you at the reception, I apologize for my colleague, he forgot to look.” she swallowed the last of the bitter fluid left by the drop, before answering in a smooth baritone.

“That's okay, as long as it reached me in the end.” she shot the blonde woman a flirtatious look, that made her blush slightly. She took the white envelope. “Thank you.”, she said and continued to her car, studying the paper in her hand. It was blank, no return address, no name, nothing. Pinning the envelope between her body and arm she fished her key out of her pocket and opened up the car. 

She threw the duffel bag into the back seat and sat down in the front, closing the door before taking the envelope and opening it with care. Her expression went as blank as the envelope as she read the few lines of the letter inside. She shoved the letter back into the envelope and threw it onto the passenger seat. With a sigh she started the engine and maneuvered the car onto the street starting her way back to DC. Looks like she would meet her favorite FBI Agent again. Hopefully, he would refrain from shooting her.

\+ + + + +

It was dark as she reached DC and close to midnight when she left the motel room, she rented, to start her search for the naive Agent. She surprisingly found him in bed, in his apartment, sleeping, and not somewhere buried in files and notes looking for “the truth”. Sometimes she would like to punch him in the head with that “truth” and look if he would die from the concussion. But she didn't. She couldn't risk him to expose everything that her people had tried to fight and keep hidden for so long. She lent forward and placed her hand over his mouth, boxing him into his side with her knee. He jerked awake.

“Ah-ah, Agent Mulder, not one sound.” after she could see that the surprise and shock left his face and were replaced by anger, she took her hand away and stepped out of his reach. She had her gun out and trained on him before he could even sit up and lift his own, that he had kept under his pillow. She rose an eye-brow at that. Paranoid much? Not that he didn't have a reason to be, and who was she kidding, this was Mulder after all.

“Krycek!” Mulder said venomously.

“Yeah, surprise.” her deep voice replied sarcastically. She didn't have to come personally, but she had wanted to. It would be easier. And no-one would be able to listen in on their conversation, she had checked for bugs. “I thought that you might want to know that your partner is about to be killed tonight.” Mulders eyes widened and he jumped out of the bed, beginning to dress, ignoring the gun still pointed at him, so she lowered it, relieved that he didn't make it more difficult.

“Why should I believe you?”, skip that.

“Because, she will be dead if you don't. Don't call her, don't take her car when you leave and don't tell anyone where you are going, remain hidden. Here is my number, if you both need help, call me.” she saw the angered and deeply distrustful glare sent her way and put the card down on a table. “Go, you haven't got much time.”

Conflicting emotions ran through Mulders head, she could practically see them, but in the end he grabbed the card and ran out of the apartment. She sagged slightly with relief, before straightening up again and leaving the flat the way she had come. The front-door. Locking up behind her she made her way back to the motel. The only things left for her now, were to eliminate the group targeting Scully and wait for a phone call from her contractor for further instructions.

\+ + + + +

Scully was woken by the frantic hammering on her door. Knowing who that could only be, she quickly dressed herself and went to open the door.

“Dana, we have to leave, now!” Mulder stepped in and went straight to her bedroom to retrieve the bag she always kept packed in case she had to leave DC for a case.

“What? Mulder, what happened?” she followed him, watching as he packed a few more things for her and trying not to feel insulted that he was going through her things.

“Someone wants to kill you.” he passed her again on his way to the bathroom.

“What? Why?” He was coming back already as he answered.

“I don't know. We don't have the time for this now, we have to leave town, I'll explain everything in the car.” That was when the bullets started to rain down on them. They ducked and miraculously made it out of the door and to Mulder's car without being shot by the sniper, that took desperate shots at them. They got away, barely. They had to switch cars and soon were on the Highway out of DC.

“How did you know?” Dana asked as the amount of adrenalin slowly leveled down again. Mulder clenched his teeth before answering.

“Krycek told me.”

“Krycek told you.” she couldn't even begin to imagine what that sentence did to the state of her partners mind. “Why?”

“I don't know. He woke me up with a gun to my head and said that someone was planning to kill you tonight.”

“He woke you up – He was in your apartment? Why not just call you?”

“I don't know. He gave me his number, in case we need help and told me to stay hidden.”

“Mhm.” What was the triple-Agent up to, now? “Where are we going?” Mulder showed her the card with the number of Alex Krycek on it and flipped it over. There were coordinates on the back. “Can we trust him on this?” and again Mulder answered tense and with a slightly desperate tone.

“I don't know. For now, we don't really have a choice but to trust the rat.” They continued to drive mostly in silence. Both of them thinking what this could be about and how this would end and both not knowing what to do and who to trust. 

The coordinates led them to a cabin in the woods of Virginia, with a full fridge, a small kitchen/living room-combination, a small bathroom that barely fitted the toilet, shower-cabin and sink in it and a bedroom. They would be okay for at least a week with the things in the fridge and letting her gaze wander over the numerous book-shelves decorating the walls they at least wouldn't be bored. Even if half the titles sported the Cyrillic symbols of Russian. She looked over to her partner, studied his expression and hoped that he wouldn't do anything foolish.

“I have to go back. Find out what's going on.” Like leaving her.

“Mulder, you're really going to leave me here?” she could see her words impacting like shrapnel-bombs.

“You're save here.” he tried to reassure himself more than her.

“Really, am I?” and his resolve broke.

“Just for a few days, when we haven't heard from Krycek by the end of the week, I'm going back and try to find out what's going on.” she nodded, relieved. Good.

\+ + + + +

Alex Krycek drove through the night at break-neck speed. Her breath was coming in gasps and she had to concentrate everything she had on the street before her. Fighting against the pull of unconsciousness and the pain that shot through her with every move of her body and every bump in the street. She had done it. Everyone that had been hired to kill Agent Scully had been eliminated. Her contractor had called her, informing her that the person that hired them had been taken care of. It was over, at least for now, and the agents could go back to their lives. 

She had just agreed and hung up. She hadn't mentioned the bullet that the last killer had managed to hit her with. Just a few more miles. She would reach the cabin and everything would be over. She coughed again and the pain that shot through her nearly immobilized her. Metallic taste spread through her mouth. 'Yep, definitely grazed something.” she thought, fighting the black stars at the edges of her vision. She was nearly there...

She came to a halt at the cabin and didn't know if she was relieved to see the windows alight or if she should be disappointed. It would have been easier for her if they hadn't trusted her. Thoughts scrambled with pain and blood loss, she stumbled out of the car and to the cabin, her hand not clutching the hole in her side but the fluttering under her belly-button until she reached the cabin. The door was opened and she was greeted by two guns aimed at her person, Mulder standing right before her and Scully a few steps behind him. Both of them lowered them as they saw her, even Mulder, she really must look bad. Maybe she would finally die for real this time. She lent against the door frame.

“It's over. You can go home.” She said, her voice breaking slightly under the strain of exhaustion but still male. She could see Scully pushing Mulder out of the way, her Doctor-Mode clear in her face. Maybe she wouldn't die today, after all. She gathered all of her energy and as the other woman reached for her, she met her blue eyes with all the desperation and importance she could muster.

“Don't let Mulder anywhere near me. Please.” The next thing she knew was darkness.

\+ + + + + 

It was on the evening of the second day in the cabin that they heard a car driving up the driveway. Followed by the sound of a car-door opening and then heavy footsteps. Mulder had reached for his gun and had taken position by the door. Dana had taken her gun as well and waited for the footsteps to reach the door, where they stopped and for a moment nothing happened. Mulder lost his patience in the end and pulled the door open. 

The light hit the form of Alex Krycek and Dana had to stop herself from gasping in shock. The man was slumped against the door-frame, his dark green eyes unfocused and glassy, his face unnaturally pale and wet with cold sweat. His teeth were stained red from blood as he spoke, the same blood that darkened his clothes in unhealthy quantities.

“It's over. You can go home.” he said, breaking their stunned silence and shaking her from her stupor into Doctor-mode. Nearly black, green eyes met hers as she shoved her way to the injured Agent and as she reached him, she knew that he trusted her with his life.

“Don't let Mulder anywhere near me. Please.” came the nearly inaudible whisper, before the dark man succumbed to blood loss. Apparently that trust didn't extent to her partner. She prevented him from falling by leaning him more against the door.

“Mulder, help me to bring him to the bed.” and to her surprise, he did. They settled Krycek onto his back and Scully went to collect the medical kit, that she kept in her bag.

“I need boiling water. Leave it by the door and knock when it's ready, don't come in.” she said in her I'm-a-doctor-listen-to-me-voice.

“What? Why?”

“Doctor-Patient-Confidentiality.” she said.

“You can't be serious. I wont leave you alone with him!” she glared at him.

“You will be next door and what do you think he could do to me in his condition?” He backed down.

“Okay, but when something happens, scream.” She forced herself not to smile and roll her eyes at his worries.

“Yes, now go!” He left the room grumbling. 

She began to undress Krycek and stopped as she reached for his left arm to pull it out of the leather-jacket. That wasn't flesh and bone she was feeling there, it was the hard feeling of plastic. She started to pull the other arm out first and managed to pull the leather from beneath his back, before slipping it off the artificial limb. Was this the thing Mulder shouldn't know? 

Now that the leather was out of the way she could cut off the rest of the clothes, a black button-up and a black undershirt, from the upper body of her patient. She was surprised that the body underneath all that cloth was slighter than she had expected and to find a tightly wrapped bandage around the upper torso of the man. Probably the reason why he hadn't bled out in the time it must have taken him to reach the cabin. But first, she opened the straps holding the arm to the shoulder and laid him aside, trying not to stare in horror and to remain her calm as she saw the land of scars that was the stump of the upper left arm and shoulder. That hadn't been amputation, that had been knives and axes. Slaughter. She lost all of her professional demeanor as she cut away the bandages and saw what had been conceiled underneath them. 

A woman. Her eyes wandering again over the body of the person before her and it only confirmed what she saw. 

Alex Krycek, assassin, agent and triple-spy, was a woman.

It was the sight of blood flowing out of the wound that pulled her out of her shock. First, she would save him, well, her, and then she might get some answers. A knock sounded and she went and got the bowl of steaming water, relieved that Mulder had remained away from the door and had respected her wish for privacy. He wouldn't understand, hell she couldn't understand what she saw.

 

She looked at the wound, cleaned away the blood and sighed. She would have to remove the bullet, hoping it hadn't fragmented. It lasted several hours, but in the end, she had removed the bullet, cleaned and disinfected the wound, had tried her best to repair any internal wounds and had stitched it close. There was an IV of saline attached to her patients wrist in lack of a blood bag, but she couldn't do more with the things she got here and she knew that no hospital was safe for Alex. She shook her head. Since when was this Alex? And not Krycek? This man, no woman, she reminded herself as she bandaged the wound, was responsible for the murder of her sister, of Mulders father. But as she sat there looking over the many scars that covered the smooth skin, her analytical mind telling her what tools they came from, she couldn't help but feel sympathy. No woman should go through any of that, hell, no man should. Her eyes widened as her gaze stopped over a slight, barely noticeable to the unschooled eye, bump under the seam of her jeans.

She took out her stethoscope and put it around her head, putting the other end to the slight curve. She had to concentrate to ignore the sound of the loud beating of the abdominal aorta to hear the slight, tiny sound of a second beating heart. She wondered how much shock she would have to go through in one night and found herself surprised with sudden jealousy that pumped through her veins. She turned her head away from the unconscious woman and breathed slow and deep, trying to suppress that tainted emotion in her. It worked. Like it had worked every time she saw a pregnant woman, knowing that she never would have the pleasure of bearing a child.

She looked up into that familiar face that suddenly seemed so alien. Alex could have refused her help and would have accepted her death just to keep this, all of it, secret, Dana was sure of it. With all that trust? She couldn't help but return the sentiment.

+++++

The first thing she noticed was that the darkness had lightened, the next thing was the movement of her chest as she breathed, then the heat and pain that pulsed through it. The feeling of soft cloth surrounding her came next. She shifted her head to the side, feeling her hair tickle her ear, and opened her eyes slowly.

She was in the cabin, in bed and Scully was sitting in a chair beside the bed, sleeping in a position that couldn't be comfortable. Alex tried to shift but her limbs wouldn't quite work the way she wanted them to. She must have made some noise, because Scully lifted her head and blinked, grimacing at the stiff neck she certainly had. She sat forward as she noticed the dark-green eyes on her.

“You're awake.” she reached for a glass of water that stood on the night stand.

“Here, drink this.” the agent lifted her head and tilted the glass, so that she could take a sip. She hadn't noticed she was thirsty until the water ran down her throat soothingly.

“Thank you.” she said and was surprised and slightly embarrassed to hear that her voice sounded female. It had been months that she heard herself that way. She could see Scully hesitate and the questions in her eyes were clearly readable. “Can you..., help me sit up?” she didn't want to lie down when talking, it was bad enough that she was recognized as a woman, she didn't need another weakness. Scully nodded and helped her sit up. She tried to ignore the tension that rose as the red-headed woman grabbed her under what was left of her arm to lift her into a more upright position.

“Thank you.” she said again. It was really strange to hear her voice that way.

“It's okay. Here, you should take these.” Scully handed her a couple of pills. At her questioning glance she elaborated. “That are Painkillers and that's Antibiotics.” she pointed at the pills according to their function. Alex dry-swallowed the antibiotics and handed back the painkillers. Scully hesitated before taking them back, it were all pills that could be taken by a pregnant woman.

“You should take them, you have to be in an awful lot of pain.” She was, but painkillers were worse than pain.

“They make me fuzzy.” was all she said. She reached for the glass of water again and Scully gave it to her. There was a long silence in which Scully couldn't seem to decide if she should look at her or not, and she sipped the water in small quantities. They both could hear quiet snoring through the door. Scully caught her questioning gaze and shook her head.

“No , he doesn't know.” Alex nodded, relieved. Good. “How-” she looked up into uncertain blue eyes. “Why?” came another nearly whispered question. Alex thought about it for a moment, trying to decide what to say, if to say anything at all.

“My father, he wanted a boy, and after receiving the news that the child she was bearing would be the only one she would be able to bear, my mother made sure he got one. He never knew. And after their deaths, no-one ever questioned it.” Alex could see the shock and sympathy in the other womans face as she tried to think about all the implications that answer brought up. 

Alex leaned back into the pillows, drowning in her own thoughts. She had continued, after the death of her parents, because she had seen what happened to women in her area of work. How easy they started to whore themselves out, to lose their pride and become mere shells of their former selves. How they were never respected as much as the men, how they weren't deemed capable of the jobs she'd done for years and so she had remained Alex Krycek, hit-man and Man for the hand-on tasks of the organizations she worked for. And it was a comfort for herself that, should she survive in the end, which she doubted, but should it happen, not one, of all the men surely wanting her dead by then, would look for a woman.

“That's horrible.” Scully said in the end. Alex looked at her for a moment, before shaking her head.

“It isn't, really.” Of course, she probably had several psychoses and the scars on her body proofed what it brought for her to be thought of as male, but in the end, it was okay. It wasn't often that she regretted being seen as a man, mostly when seeing young mothers with their children, but she liked to think that she had protected them in ways she never could have done as a woman. And soon it would be over. In general, she didn't think about it at all.

“You should go home.” she said in the end. Surprised blue eyes met hers.

“What? No, you can't be left alone, some-one needs to take care of you, complications could come up-”

“Go home, Scully. Go home and find out what can be salvaged from your apartment. I'll be alright.” The redhead sighed.

“You wont be alright left alone here, with a hole in your chest, the wound could get an infection, you could have a blood clot, just to mention two of the most frequent complications with gun-shot wounds. You're lucky you didn't lose-” again she was interrupted by Alex.

“I wont be alone.” that shut up her protests and seeing the stubbornness in the dark-green eyes, she knew she had no choice in the matter. “Just leave the pills an the bottle of water, I will be fine.” she received a reluctant nod from the doctor.

“Do you know why they tried to kill me?” Alex gaze rested on the woman for several moments.

“The thing you and your partner don't seem to understand is, that I am the person at the end of the chain of orders.” Alex sighed. “So, no. I don't. I'm sorry.” Scully nodded slowly, looking resigned. “You don't have to worry though, everyone who had received the order has been taken care of.” 

“Yeah.” Scully sighed.

“Can you give me my jacket before you go?” Alex asked, and she did, and with a last nod from Scully, the redhead took her bag and the few clothes that belonged to Mulder and left the room. Alex could hear short, muffled arguing through the door, but quarter of an hour later she could hear the door close and a car leave. She waited for five minutes before searching the pockets of her leather jacket for her secure mobile-phone. When she finally found it, she dialed a number she knew by heart.

“Yes?” answered a male voice in Russian, sounding tired, after she waited for three rings.

“Dima, it's Sascha.” The sleepiness vanished from the voice on the other end, as she answered in Russian.

“Sascha? Is everything alright? You don't sound like your usual self.” She nodded, even though she knew he couldn't see her.

“Nothing life threatening, just a bullet-” she had to pause as pain struck her from her chest, she hated how weak her voice sounded in her ears. She continued as soon as the wave passed, her other hand lying on her abdomen searching for the slight movements she hadn't felt all morning. “Can you come and take me home?” she tried not to cry, she really did, but the hormones got to her and the mere thought of losing this, was terrifying her more than the thought of losing her arm ever had.

“Yes, yes, of course, where are you?” came the worried voice through the phone.

“At the cabin in Virginia.”

“I'll be there in the afternoon, don't strain yourself, just a bullet my ass. I come and take you home.” his voice was first soft then harsh and then soft again. She could hear him handling a bundle of keys and throwing on some clothes.

“Okay.” she gasped silenty, still terrified and lost in her panic, now that she was alone. “I can't feel it anymore, Dima.” she whispered.

“Oh baby, Sascha, it's going to be okay, you hear? I'm on my way, rest, don't overexert yourself.” she couldn't answer with more than a tired hum. 

“Mhm.” she was tired all of a sudden, her eyes sliding shut, she hadn't noticed how tired she was until now, as her last reserves ran low.

“I'll see you soon. I love you.” she barely managed to end the call and erase the call list, before sleep overcame her. She slipped into darkness.

+++++

Alex awoke several hours later, feeling a warm callused hand lying on the slight bump on her abdomen. She opened her eyes looking into the dark brown orbs of the man leaning above her.

“Hey, love.” he whispered and planted a tender kiss on her lips.

“Hi.” she answered in the same tone.

“Here, you should take another one of those, you don't have a fever, but we can't risk it setting in.” he placed one of the antibiotics into her mouth and lifted her head so she could drink water with it. Her hand found his on its way back to her abdomen and she laid hers above his. “Everything is alright.” he answered her unasked question. He smiled as her face relaxed in relief. “You were really out of it, I'm waiting for you to wake up for an hour now, so I took the liberty to see for myself if everything was alright with you.” his other hand came up to her face. Caressing her dark hair out of her face. “You have to stop soon.”

“I know.” she said. “I will.” she closed her eyes. “I have some favors to call in, and then I'm out, no-one will ever find me again.”

“We will make sure of that. You will be happy to know that I got the house.” a smile stretched over her face.

“Wonderful.” her face nuzzled against his hand. “I wont ever be Alex Krycek again.” she opened her eyes and looked into the slightly smiling face of her lover, confidant, partner. “Take us home, Dima.” 

The man lent down and planted a kiss on her fore head. “I will, love. I will.”

+++++

It wasn't even two weeks later that Scully heard it from Mulder. Alex Krycek was dead. Shot in the head, point blanc. She had been sitting awake all night, thinking about everything that she had learned in the last weeks. And in the end, she liked the idea much better that that woman she had met in the cabin, was somewhere out there, living her life, taking care of the child that was growing inside of her and was now free of the responsibilities that had been placed on her. It was better than the thought of that much life wasted by a bullet and rotting on concrete. The body disappearing helped her theory, though she would never tell a soul. At least one of them should be able to get out of this mess. And believing in that silent theory made her sleep better at night.

END

**Author's Note:**

> So.... tell me what you think :)


End file.
